The Star and the Wand

by Animawish

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Alternate Universe
Length: 5251

Twilight Sparkle's life is drastically changed when she fails her entrance exam to Celestia's Academy.

Somewhere in Equestria, a young pegasus is racing for the honor of her campmate. In another universe, as she races, she reaches such a high speed that she creates a "Sonic Rainboom", which has far reaching effects across all of Equestria. This does not occur.

At the same time, a promising young unicorn is struggling on her entrance exam to Celestia's Academy. The proctors look on with disapproval as she exhausts all avenues to succeed in her task. Something is missing. She fails her exam, and runs away from home to become the apprentice of a traveling unicorn.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-16 04:30:01 UTC

Chapter 1

“Well, Miss Sparkle?”

My eyes flickered from the egg to the proctors. I was blowing it and I knew it. No amount of reading could have prepared me for this. I briefly cursed the injustice of the situation. How could they expect me, a filly, to open a dragon egg with no chance for study? I considered asking to go to the library, but I took from their impatient glares that research would not be an option.

I swallowed roughly and widened my stance. Pouring everything I knew about magic into my horn, I lunged forward, willing the egg to open.

Nothing.

I glanced at my parents. Their anxiety was palpable. I focused back on the egg, trying to cast out any stray worries. I had to open it. After that, everything would fall into place. If I could even get a crack in this egg, I wouldn’t have to worry ever again. I scrunched up my eyes and lunged again, sparks shooting out of my horn.

Nothing.

“We don’t have all day, Miss Sparkle.”

My terrified face turned to the proctors, then my parents, and then back to the egg. I was out of time. If I didn’t open it this time, I would fail, and I wouldn’t be able to join Celestia’s school. My knees nearly buckled at the thought. I wasn’t going to succeed. Hours upon days upon weeks spent in the library and I couldn’t open an egg.

I let the air escape from my lungs and held it there. I looked up at the stupid purple thing and widened my stance further. I thought of Starswirl the Bearded and Celestia. I thought about every book on magical practice that I’d ever read. I thought about my parents and “foreclosure”. I brought every aspect of my being together and focused it into my horn. Lunging forward one last time, I desperately willed the egg to crack.

Nothing.

I looked up at the proctors with tears in my eyes as they shook their heads and lowered their clipboards.

“I’m sorry I wasted your time,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry...”

...

“The Grrrreat and Powerful Trixie demands her beverage, Sparkle!”

Dear Celestia, she was rolling her Rs again.

The desolate landscape meandered by, leaching the energy from every pore of my body. The soft pat-pat of my hoofs on the dirt road was accompanied only by the grating creaks of Trixie’s carriage.

“Yes, Madame. Would you like mineral water today? We’re out of apple cider,” I called over the cacophonous creaking. Trixie poked her big blue head out of the window of the carriage and glared down at me.

“Out of cider? But you bought a crate merely three days ago! You’ve been stealing Trixie’s beverages! Trixie will have to take it out of your allowance!”

“Madame, you’ve drunk two bottles with every meal since we left Gallopoli, not to mention the bottles that you shared with that stallion last night,” I replied, slowing my pace to reach the cart being drawn behind. I rummaged around, trying to find the water while keeping pace with the caravan. Trixie appeared to ponder what I had said for a moment, then shook her head.

“Trixie will be taking the money out of your allowance anyway, regardless of your opinion of Trixie’s drinking habits,” she announced haughtily before retracting her head. I sighed, briefly mourning the loss of my meager income as I disengaged a bottle from the cart. Clutching the bottle precariously with my mouth, I staggered forward until I drew even with Trixie’s Door.

“Twllght Sprkle rrqsts nntrnce tw th crrge f th Grrt nd Prful Trxie,” I grumbled around the bottle. Trixie’s eye appeared between the curtains.

“What was that? The Great and Powerful Trixie couldn’t comprehend your plebeian babble,” she said, laughing. I growled to myself and rearranged the bottle so I could speak.

“Twilight Sparkle requests entrance to the carriage of the Great and Powerful Trixie,” I repeated, sighing.

“Trixie will not grant it, you will ruin the rugs with your filthy hooves,” she said with a harumph, closing the curtains with what I assume she wanted to be a flourish.

“Then how does the Great and Powerful Trixie expect to get her drink?”

There was a pause in the rustlings inside the carriage. I heard a creak as Trixie straightened up.

“The Great Trixie will allow you to use magic to deliver her beverage,” she announced. I started, nearly tripping over my own hooves. This was the first time outside of our inconsistent “educational periods” that Trixie had allowed me to use magic. I smiled for the first time in a while, and, struggling briefly, let magical energy flow through me. The bottle sparkled indistinctly as it slowly rose from my mouth and through the curtains in Trixie’s carriage. Once I felt the tug of Trixie’s magic vying for control of the bottle I released the spell.

After a brief moment of silence, Trixie cleared her throat loudly. I glanced at her window, and then returned my attention to the dirt.

I jumped as Trixie threw her head out her window, obviously angry about something.

“Well?” she demanded, glaring at me.

I blinked. What had I done wrong this time? Trixie sighed in exasperation.

“Why haven’t you thanked Trixie for allowing you to use magic?”

Understanding filled my mind like a storm cloud. Trixie wanted me to thank her for getting her a drink. I ground my teeth for a moment before spitting the words out.

“Thank you, Oh Trixie, for allowing me to use magic in your presence,” I growled, trying to feign a smile. She looked at me disapprovingly for another moment before withdrawing once more into her carriage. I fixed my glare on the horizon, watching as it swallowed the sun and let darkness fall.

...

“It’s alright, sweetie, you tried your best,” said my mother, smiling down at me sadly. I could sense my parents’ disappointment.

“Oh no, did this lovely little filly fail her entrance exam?” called a voice that dripped with false sincerity. I looked up. Standing in front of my parents and me was a blue mare with gray hair. She wore a purple pointed hat that dripped to one side, and held herself confidently. She gave me a face that looked like a cross between a smile and a grimace.

“Twilight did her best,” said my father defensively. He stood up straighter and looked the blue mare in the eyes.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie did not mean to offend - far from it. In fact,” began the mare with feigned indignation, looking at her hoof, “In fact, the Great and Powerful Trixie believes that your daughter has potential, and would like to take little... Twilight under her wing, so to speak.”

My parents quickly exchanged looks. I peered up at Trixie from between them. She didn’t look especially powerful. Upon closer inspection, her hat appeared threadbare and her horn could be seen through the hat via a pattern of small holes.

“As your... apprentice?” my dad asked hesitantly. He loosened his stance slightly.

“Yes, the Great and Powerful Trixie has decided that she would like to pass her awe-inspiring abilities on to the next generation, and has decided that this... purple filly has the potential to become at least half of what Trixie is today.”

My mother shook her head, saying, “We can’t just give up our daughter to a complete stranger.”

“You have not heard of the Grrrreat and Powerful Trrrrixie!?” shouted the mare, standing up on her hind legs. “Then behold! Behold the wonders that Trixie has bestowed upon crowds of hundreds!”

With that, the light in the courtyard dimmed slightly and Trixie’s horn glowed under her tattered hat. Two balls of green flame zigzagged around the courtyard above her, and then collided, creating a white disc that spun rapidly, shooting off sparks and whistling. I stared in amazement as my parents exchanged further looks, their brows furrowed.

“Thank you for your offer, Trixie, but we’re going to have to decline,” said my father as he began to walk past the Trixie. My mother ushered me along behind him as I peered back at the strange blue pony.

“You’ll be back,” said Trixie, smiling smugly. “You’ll be back.”

...

We were sitting in a quiet, glistening meadow. Or rather, they were sitting in the meadow. I was standing with continually shrinking patience.

“Cider, Sparkle. Now,” demanded Trixie, not looking away from the unicorn in front of her. I grumbled to myself as I sifted through the mess of supplies in front of me. Trixie had driven her cart into this lonely location, not thinking of the steep hills that led here. Or perhaps she had expected it, and didn’t care. Regardless of her plans, in the end it had been necessary for me to support her magical locomotion with my physical exertion. My muscles burned intensely as I stretched to reach the box of cider.

As I returned to the simple picnic, Trixie was smiling. Her eyes were locked on the stallion’s face, but he was looking out at the meadow. The purple flowers swayed gently in the cool breeze. They were still covered in dew droplets, despite the sun’s best efforts.

I didn’t understand what Trixie saw in this one. He was different from the others, but not in a way that made him more appealing. All of the stallions that Trixie threw herself at were heavily muscled monstrosities. This one was of average build. His coat was black. He had no mane. The most interesting thing to me was that he kept his cutie mark obscured. The fur around where his cutie mark would be stuck out at weird angles; upon closer inspection I realized that he had smeared tar or some other substance onto the area.

“What are you gawking at, Sparkle? Put those down and return to your post,” commanded Trixie, looking at me disparagingly. I set the box down and stared back at her for a moment before turning and returning to my standing position. My legs ached. My eyes drooped. The scene was unchanging. The black stallion stared into the distance, and Trixie stared at him. Trixie had meticulously posted me outside of earshot, but neither of them had spoken in the entire time that they had been there. The wind rolled over my back and around my legs, dulling the aching pain ever so slightly. My breathing slowed, and the scene in front of me melted away.

When my eyes opened, the stallion was gone. The sun was cresting the distant mountains, and Trixie sat alone, staring into the distance in the dusk glow. The box of cider was untouched. I yawned, and Trixie looked in my direction. Her eyes were sad. There was none of the malice or resentment that I normally saw in her eyes. Her eyes didn’t focus. She was looking through me, at some distant location in her mind. After a considerable amount of time she turned back to the sunrise. We sat, watching, as the sun continued its daily progression, oblivious to any and everything else.

...

“Listen to me now, Sparkle. You’re nothing compared to me. You got that? Nothing,” said Trixie, looking into my watering eyes. She loomed over me, standing about a half a meter taller than I. This wasn’t the first time that I’d gotten this speech, but in a frustrating way, I hoped it wouldn’t be the last. Every time Trixie “taught” me magic, she began the lesson with a speech about how much worse I was than her. I nodded slowly, and Trixie smiled.

“Good. Now, watch and learn,” Trixie said smugly. She whipped her mane around, standing on her hind legs. A green fireball erupted from her horn and flew around randomly, circling around me and then Trixie and then Trixie’s carriage before shooting into the sky and exploding into a thousand sparkling cinders. I watched attentively and thought for a few moments.

“Try not to overexert yourself,” taunted Trixie, leaning back.

I stared ahead and kept thinking. After getting my plan of attack together, I looked into the sky and reached into myself, willing the magic to come forth. It fought me every step of the way, but I dragged it to the surface, and sent it into the world. Three green fireballs shot from my horn, circling each other as they flew upwards. They broke off from each other and zigzagged around independently, flying towards the ground at the same time. Just as it seemed they were going to crash into the ground, they pulled up and flew towards each other. Just as they were about to collide, I got a twinge in my neck, and they fizzled out. I panted, proud of what I’d accomplished despite the lackluster finale.

“Pathetic. Just sad,” sneered Trixie, walking back towards her cart. “Try to get something worth watching next time.”

I sighed, knowing that next time wouldn’t be for months.

...

I awoke with a start. What was left of my crude fire smoldered quietly in the still night. I looked around, squinting in the darkness. Trixie’s carriage glowed faintly to my right, and her snores emanated not so faintly from within. I yawned as my eyes adjusted to the moonlight. We had only camped about ten yards from the road, but the countryside yielded no travelers. I guessed that we were half a day from the next town. However, it would probably be dark again by the time we arrived, given Trixie’s sleep schedule. I amused myself for a few moments by using magic to rearrange the coals, and then settled back into the grass.

I closed my eyes slowly and sighed. It would be approximately two hours until the sun rose, five hours until Trixie did, and six until we began traveling again. It would be nice to see a face that wasn’t Trixie’s. I thought back to my days in Canterlot. Smarty Pants and the librarian had been my best friends. The library had been my playground, and I had spent my happiest days enthralled by the written word.

My eyes shot open and I straightened up. A library. A library! I squealed in delight and danced around my fire, spraying dirt onto the dying embers. The next town had to have a library! I fell on my back giggling. I’d have a chance to study again! I thought about the last time I’d seen a book. It had to have been... three towns back. That town had had a small book store run by a crusty old donkey. He’d demanded every last bit in my possession for half of an almanac.

I pranced around giddily for a few more moments before my exhaustion from the day caught up to me. I collapsed onto my side, breathing deeply and smiling. My heart was beating heavily, but I needed to get some rest for tomorrow’s walk. I began to count my breaths. One, two, three, four...

...

“Sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy,” counted the large gray pony, manipulating the bits clumsily with his hoof. He looked up, frowning. “You’re still eighty bits short, Mr. Sparkle.”

My father looked like he was about to break into tears. He looked down at my face for a moment, then rummaged around in his satchel. He pulled out a silver tiara, and looked into the pony’s eyes. “How much can I-”

“I can’t take that as payment. You know that,” said the pony, his eyes softening slightly.

The air escaped my father’s lungs and he let his head drop. He whispered inaudibly for a few moments and then looked at me again. There was moisture in his eyes as he tried and failed to smile at me.

“How long have I got?” he asked, looking back at the pony.

The pony shook his head sadly. “We need the money by tomorrow morning, Mr. Sparkle. Times are tough for all of us, and we can’t afford to give you any more time.”

My father nodded dumbly and then began walking away. I glanced back at the gray pony as I followed my father, mashing my teeth together as I thought.

It all came down to money. My parents had been steadily accumulating more and more debt as they made what the gray pony had called “minimum payments”. I chewed the sides of my mouth, trying to think of a way to get more money for my parents.

It was then that it hit me. I didn’t have to get my parents more money. I had to help them spend less. That’s why they had been so disappointed when I failed my exam. If I had been accepted, all of my living expenses would have been paid for by Princess Celestia herself.

I was the problem.

...

“Sparkle, what was that disturbance last night?” asked Trixie, yawning as she exited her carriage. “It sounded like a stampede right outside my cart.”

I looked up from the sizzling pancake that was slowly darkening over the fire. Trixie was wearing her hat over her disheveled hair. She lazily stretched at the foot of her cart, shivering at the noon breeze.

“I don’t know, Ma’am. I thought it was inordinately quiet last night,” I replied before grabbing the spatula in my mouth and flipping the pancake. It hissed satisfyingly as wet dough met hot pan, delaying Trixie’s retort for a sweet moment.

Trixie glared at the pan for a moment, obviously upset at the inanimate object for interrupting her train of thought. She stood there with her mouth slightly agape for a moment before snapping her head up and letting out an indignant “hmph.” She stepped back into her carriage as I flipped the pancake onto a plate. I slowly drenched the pancake with blueberry syrup, expending a good eighth of the bottle on the plate. After a quick glance at Trixie’s window, I lifted the plate onto my head using magic and approached Trixie’s carriage.

“Twilight Sparkle requests–”

“Just send it through the window,” Trixie snapped. I heard some kind of movement and a whispered curse as I slowly sent the plate through the window. This time Trixie wrenched the plate from my magical grasp, causing me to stagger backwards. I retreated from the rustling cart and cleaned up my campsite, kicking sand into the low blaze and carrying the cooking tools to the cart.

Once I had tidied up, I dropped myself lazily to the ground, ready to wait the hour so for Trixie to finish her meal.

Sixty seven minutes later, Trixie loudly cleared her throat as she clattered her fork onto the plate. I sat up, yawning.

“Was Trixie’s meal satisfa-” I began saying. I heard a crash. Pain followed a moment after. The ground in front of me was covered in porcelain shards, and the untouched pancake was hanging from my horn.

“Don’t start with your patronizing sarcasm you little whelp,” shrieked Trixie, throwing open the door to her carriage. She stormed down the steps and positioned herself directly in my face, towering a quarter meter over my adolescent body. Terror clouded my mind. I’d never seen Trixie like this.

“Buh, wuh,” I stammered, attempting to scoot backwards. Trixie met my pace, keeping her face in mine.

“I’ve kept you for three years,” began Trixie, dropping the third person for the first time in her life, “I’ve treated you to peeks into my knowledge, I’ve shared my income with you, even seeing fit to give you an allowance. And how do you spend my generous allowance? On this!”

An object collided with my flank with a “whump”. I tumbled forward into Trixie’s hooves, glimpsing my tattered almanac. Trixie glared down at me accusingly, magically holding the decaying pages inches above my head.

“No, I-” I stuttered, flopping back onto my hooves and stepping backwards. I’d hidden the almanac at the bottom of the cart in anticipation of some kind of reprisal if it was discovered. I’d never expected one of this magnitude.

“Shut up, you pathetic little blankflank!” screeched Trixie, magically pushing me backwards. I stumbled through the ashes of my fire and fell on my rear. “You don’t deserve to learn magic! You’ve never had a modicum of talent! You’ll never amount to anything!”

Trixie levitated my almanac once more. As it began accelerating towards me, everything slowed. Red crept into my peripheral vision. I felt a heavy, mind shattering throb in my head. It was as if a switch had been thrown somewhere in my mind. I could feel an ocean of magic welling up, ready to burst forth. And it knew exactly where to go.

The almanac never hit its mark. Two meters from its destination it burst into flame, and ash whipped around my hooves as I stepped forward. My hooves lost contact with the ground, and some part of me felt startled by it. Purple energy pulsed around my body, pulling anything it could reach into an orbit around me. My eyes felt like they were on fire; it took me a few moment to realize that they were glowing. Trixie’s mouth hung open as she stumbled backwards, her eyes locked on my floating body.

“Of COURSE I would buy an almanac,” someone shouted, its voice magically amplified and reverberating with power. I realized that it was my own. “You think that teaching me a pointless cantrip once a year could pass for an education? You think yourself powerful? You’re pathetic! You travel from town to town to scrap together a meager income and waste it on cider!”

Clumps of ground began to find their way into my energy field. Roots fought futilely at the purple energy, clinging to the surrounding Earth. Trixie shrieked as a large chunk of earth under her hooves broke from the ground, carrying her up into the air, level with me. She stared over the side, quaking. Her eyes darted around, searching for an escape that wasn’t there. Her breathing came in rapid puffs. I could feel the adrenaline as it entered her bloodstream.

Trixie’s face contorted wildly. She skittered around the small platform, peering over the edge and shrieking. Small chunks of dirt began to break from her platform and join my orbit. Her eyes bugged as she witnessed the ground crumbling beneath her hooves. Her eyes flickered between my own and her steadily shrinking standing space.

“I-I’m sorry!” wailed Trixie, hiding her head under her front hooves. “Please, forgive me! I was selfish and vain! I envied your potential! I envied you! I’m sorry!”

I faltered. Trixie had never apologized to anyone in her life. She had never admitted a flaw. I looked into her eyes, and behind the fear, I saw no malice or dishonesty. I realized that I was finally seeing who she could be. Trixie saw my hesitation and continued earnestly.

“I hated you because I saw a better version of myself every time I looked at you. You had failed as I had failed years before, trying to get into Celestia’s academy. Only, I saw that you truly deserved to succeed. Something had happened, or didn’t happen, at the last moment, and you missed your chance. And in it I saw mine, to take revenge in some small, pathetic way, on the world. On you.”

Trixie was crying. Her body slumped into the suspended earth.

“I’m sorry, Twilight. Whatever you do, know that.”

I blinked once. Twice. I felt the roiling storm inside me calming, and the pulsing magic slowed with it. The world was empty of everything else. It was Trixie and me in our own universe as I comprehended what Trixie had just done. Trixie had apologized, and then resigned herself to me. The Trixie that I knew would never accept or admit the loss of control, of power over a situation. And she had done it now.

Trixie and I and everything from the camp drifted back down to the ground, the purple energy disintegrating as my hooves touched the ground. I swayed, my head empty. I could feel my heart in my ears as I fell over, unconscious.

I awoke to the smell of burning batter. My eyelids separated lazily as I took notice of my surroundings. My things were strewn around the clearing. Trixie’s carriage had been upended, and most of the cart’s contents had spilled out in some way or another. The sun was in its descent, approaching the distant mountaintops and giving the world a slight orange tint. A fire crackled to my side, with Trixie behind it, her faced scrunched up in concentration as she manipulated an unrecognizable black blob with a spatula.

Recognition and recollection burst into my mind as I remembered the events prior to my unconsciousness. I shot up, looking around wildly. How long had I been unconscious? Had Trixie done something while I was out? I checked my whole body, and let out a surprised squeak as my eyes passed over my flank.

I had a cutie mark.

I pored over it, taking in every detail. At the center of it was a black, six pointed star. Behind it was a white crescent, and around it were five white six point stars. I stared at it until I heard Trixie moving. She was staring resentfully at the product of her work at the fire. The air carried an acrid smoke from the pan to me. Trixie looked at me, grimacing.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to want this,” she said. A meek smile graced her face briefly before she looked back at her cooking and frowned. After a moment’s thought, she upended the pan and let the creation fall into the fire. It left the world with an unimpressive crackle. I could feel the corners of my mouth turn up slightly. Today was a day for a lot of first things; that was the first time Trixie had displayed a sense of humor. I sat by the fire, took the spatula, and poured fresh batter into the pan.

...

“Trixie is prepared to depart!” she announced loudly. Her cart magically jumped into motion and wobbled towards the road. She met my stride as we walked alongside it. Trixie had sold her garish carriage and bought a larger, four wheeled cart. Our combined magics on the cart created a now familiar lavender aura as it bumped along next to us.

After traveling for several hours, the dull plains were slowly replaced by apple orchards on one side of the road and fields of rocks on the other. Row after row of apple trees illuminated my left in a desperate battle against the dull landscape to my right. To my right I could see ponies in the distance, loading the rocks into carts using a variety of means. To my left I could hear occasional crashing sounds of strong hooves striking solid bark.

Soon afterward we were entering the town. Trixie stopped her cart and peered out of her window.

“Dear Celestia. Where have you brought Trixie today? What a dump,” scoffed Trixie, scanning the buildings. “Would this two bit town even have a theater?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s kind of charming, in a country kind of way,” I responded.

I looked around. A handful of ponies were present, going about their daily business. The closer ponies eyed Trixie’s cart with surprise, slowing briefly to peek at its contents up. After a few moments of gawking, a pink pony with a puffy yellow mane and a cherry cutie mark approached.

“Hi there. My name’s Cherry Berry. What brings you to Ponyville?” she asked, glancing between me and Trixie, unsure of who to talk to.

“Greetings! I am the Grrrreat and Powerful Trixie, and this is the Maaaaaagnificent Twilight Sparkle! We have come to your... quaint little town to perform spectacular feats of magic,” announced my companion. “Would you direct us to your theater?”

Cherry Blossom stared at us dumbly.

“A stage? A pavilion?” I offered.

“Uhhh, no, not at the moment. We have a temporary one that we set up for important occasions,” she replied finally.

“That’s fine, we have our own equipment. Could you direct us to town hall?”

The pink pony pointed a hoof towards a circular building with tall pink windows and multiple levels in the center of town. I thanked her and we directed the cart toward it.

As we approached we quickly found that our path was obstructed by a crowd of ponies. We left the cart a few meters away from the edge and pushed through to see what was happening.

The crowd had formed a circle around two ponies arguing with each other. I glanced between them. The first was a pink pony with a straight magenta mane. I couldn’t get a good look at her cutie mark, but it looked like a couple of rocks. The second pony was a yellow filly with a red mane, and a bushel of apples for a cutie mark.

“You expect me ta take that fer an answer?” shouted the filly, jutting her face up into the pink’s. The little filly seemed ready to pounce on the pink mare in front of her, despite the size difference.

“Please, Applebloom, you’re making a fool of yourself,” sighed the pink pony, examining her hoof nonchalantly. “We both know that you have no proof. So why worry? It’s not like anything of value was lost.”

The yellow stood ramrod straight, shooting a death glare at the pink pony.

“Now you listen here, Pinkamena. You started the fire, and it destroyed darn near half of the southern field. If Fluttershy and the weather patrol hadn’t a stopped it, it woulda taken me with it!”

“Then I’m sorry we have such a fast acting weather patrol,” smirked Pinkamena, brushing past a gaping Applebloom and pushing through the crowd. Applebloom glanced at the departing mare and then marched off angrily in the opposite direction.

“What just happened?” I asked.

“That was Applebloom and Pinkamena. Applebloom owns the apple farm outside of Ponyville, and Pinkamena owns the rock farm. They’ve been at each others throats ever since Applebloom took over her family’s farm last year,” answered a purple mare with a pink mane. She had a series of flowers for a cutie mark.

“That filly owns a farm?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah, with her brother, ever since Granny Smith passed away. She’s got some fancy sister from Manehattan that visits town occasionally, but they aren’t very close. Applebloom was one of the youngest fillies in town to get her cutie mark, barely a month into her first year of school. She left the school shortly after, to run the farm full time. She and her brother employ half the town.”

The purple pony sighed and looked at the ground under her hooves. I no longer felt comfortable talking to her, so I thanked her and stepped back towards Trixie.

“What happened there?” she asked, peering around at the dispersing ponies.

“Oh, some kind of dispute between farm owners. Shall I start setting up?” I asked, glancing up at her.

Trixie appeared to be deep in thought. She stared into the distance for a moment before saying, “Trixie is concerned that we will have been upstaged by this performance before she even begins. No, Trixie thinks it would be best to wait until tomorrow.”